


Your Loss Would Break My Heart {Mycroft Holmes x Reader}

by commandersierrasmith



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Minor Character Death, Reader-Insert, Sex, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Virgin Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandersierrasmith/pseuds/commandersierrasmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are you enough to melt the heart of the Iceman or are you just another goldfish?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Only my second reader insert.

You had just finished moving into the apartment of the infamous consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. Your name is {first/last} and you were recently transferred to London to work under Greg Lestrade. Your old friend, John Watson and his wife Mary, had spoken with Sherlock and he was in need of a flatmate and you needed a place to stay since the move was sudden. Long story short, now you reside at 221B Baker Street. Living with Sherlock Holmes wasn't a walk in the park. He spent most of his time pacing the living room, making messes, playing his violin, or putting random body parts in the refrigerator for his experiments. There were times when he didn't return to the flat for days, but you still enjoyed the detectives company and you think he enjoyed yours. You got along very well for only living together for such a short period of time. You could even say you trusted the man. He wasn't rude to you like he was with most people. He was maybe even a little protective, like an older brother. When Mycroft started coming around is when it all started. Sherlock always wanting you to go upstairs or find something to bake in the kitchen, anything to keep you away from the conversation. Then it dawned on you, for some reason, Sherlock didn't want Mycroft around you. Maybe it was because you were developing feelings for the Iceman and Sherlock didn't want you to end up hurt or even dead. After all his brother was the British Government and a very dangerous man to be around. He not only feared for your life but also your heart. Mycroft was known as the Iceman and for good reason. The man showed no emotion. He could destroy a country and not feel a thing. Sherlock did not want you to end up with a broken heart, after all, he could not see his emotionless brother developing feelings for anyone, especially an ordinary woman like you. The man didn't even have friends, let alone a significant other. His brother was incapable of love. Or so he thought. On one particular afternoon, Mycroft had stopped by to check up on his baby brother, or so he claimed. He had been coming around a lot more since you moved in, so Sherlock knew he had taken an interest into you. They had sat there, playing Operation, taking jabs at each other. Arguing over who was the smarter one. The buzzer sounds. 

"Oh, bugger!" Mycroft tossed down the game piece in defeat.  
"Whoopsy! Can’t handle a Broken Heart. How very telling." Sherlock sniped.  
"Don’t be smart." Mycroft spoke with a sneer.  
"That takes me back. “Don’t be smart, Sherlock! I’m the smart one!” Sherlock said, mocking a young Mycroft.  
"I am the smart one." Mycroft said glaring at Sherlock, clearly losing patience.  
"Oh, I used to think I was an idiot."  
"Both of us thought you were an idiot, Sherlock. We had nothing else to go on, until we met other children."  
"Oh, yes. That was a mistake."  
"Ghastly. What were they thinking of?" Mycroft looked disgusted by the thought.  
"Probably something about "trying to make friends." Sherlock says glancing to you as you walked into the room bringing them fresh tea and biscuits.  
"Oh, yes. "Friends". Of course, you go in for that sort of thing now." Mycroft retorted, stealing a glace at you, trying not to be so obvious.  
"And you don’t? Ever?" Sherlock asked curiously.  
"If you seem slow to me, Sherlock, can you imagine what real people are like? I’m living in a world of goldfish." Mycroft answered without hesitation, like his answer was obvious.  
"Yes, but I’ve been away for two years." Sherlock didn't miss the look of hurt on your face at his brothers goldfish comment.  
"So?"  
"Oh, I don’t know...I thought you perhaps might have found yourself a...goldfish." Sherlock pried.  
"Change the subject...now." Mycroft rose becoming uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, as Sherlock was bound to see right through him. Truth is, he hadn't found a goldfish but rather taken a fancy to the beautiful {h/c} hair and {e/c} eyed young woman who recently moved in with his younger brother.  
"Am I a goldfish to you?" You asked, causing both men to stare at you eyes wide with shock. Mycroft lowered his head, taking a moment before he spoke.  
"Of course not my dear. I'm sure you are highly educated, unlike my brother, who just likes to show off." He tried to assured you but he wasn't sure if his voice was shaking or not. Sherlock just stared in disbelief. Even if you weren't as smart as them, Mycroft had never spared someone's feelings before. You smiled, satisfied with Mycroft's answer and returned to the kitchen.

The boys continued with their deductions tossing an old hat back and forth trying to out-do one another. You walked back into the room to pick up their cups and plates.

"I'm not lonely Sherlock." Mycroft voice faltered a bit. Before he met you this would have been true but now he wasn't so sure.  
"How would you know?" Sherlock whispered. Mycroft looked towards you. He cleared his throat trying to break the tension.  
"Well then, back to work. Good morning." He bid you farewell and left but not before glancing back to take one more look at you, meeting your gaze, before he was ran out by Sherlock's atrocious violin playing.


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft Holmes was a bitter man. He never had a kind word to say to anyone. So when you approached him and asked if he saw you as a goldfish, for the first time in his life, he was dumbfounded. He had said you weren’t of course. Over the past few months he had become quite fond of you and for the Iceman, that was a problem. He had to stop these feelings before they got out of hand. So when he left Sherlock and your flat that evening, he took in your beauty with one last glance because this would be the last time he showed any such emotion. Caring was not an advantage and he was a business man. He couldn’t afford to lose everything over something as trivial as ‘love’. 

All in the matter of a week, Sherlock had pulled John out of a bonfire in the park, defused a bomb, and got John to admit just how much he means to him. You would have a good laugh but at the moment you were more concerned of the whereabouts of Mr. Holmes. He had been missing for quite a while now. Normally you wouldn’t worry yourself but Sherlock had been a little off lately working on a new case and he didn’t want you involved. So you busied yourself at the office finishing up the terrorist case, that Sherlock had solved, for Lestrade as his personal secretary. 

You were about ready to clock out, after working all night, when the phone rang. It was Mary and she said they found Sherlock. He was currently being tested for drugs at the hospital and they would meet you at the flat. After hanging up, you sat there for a moment to collect yourself. You sent a text to Mycroft explaining everything and he contacted Anderson to make sure the flat was clean.

Upon returning home, you smiled as you closed the door because Mycroft was sitting on the stairs. But he did not return the smile. In fact, he just glared at you with hateful eyes. Nothing like the way he has looked at you in these past few months. You could feel the tension around you and it was suffocating. Unfortunately, you didn’t hear Mycroft let out the breath he was holding once you passed by him. So with a frown on your face, you continued upstairs where Anderson and his colleague were sorting through the kitchen. You headed up to your room to change out of your work clothes. The way Mycroft glared at you still fresh in your mind. Was he angry with you? Does he blame you for what’s happening with Sherlock? You could feel your eyes filling with tears. You blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. This was no time for weakness. You would not cry for the Iceman. You have to be strong for Sherlock right now. You stood in the mirror, brushing your jeans off, when you hear a familiar shout.

“Oh for GOD’s SAKE!” Sherlock was home. You made your way down to the living room where Sherlock was laying on his chair pouting, denying his drug habits. You smiled, just happy he is okay. You stood in the hallway as Sherlock finally confessed why he’s been acting to strange lately and the reason for this recent ‘drug habit’.

“Magnusson. Charles Augustus Magnusson.” The look on Mycroft’s face was enough to know that this was serious. No wonder Sherlock kept you in the dark. 

“That name you think you may have just heard, you were mistaken. If you ever mention hearing that name in this room, in this context, I guarantee you, on behalf of the British Security Services, that materials will be found on your computer hard-drives resulting in your immediate incarceration. Don't reply, just look frightened and scuttle.” With Mycroft’s threat, Anderson and his colleague were out the door. He looked at John next, “I hope I won’t have to threaten you as well?”

“I think we’d both find that embarrassing.” John said with a snicker.

“Magnusson is not your business.” Mycroft looked less than pleased.

“Oh you mean he’s yours?” Sherlock questioned.

“You may consider him under my protection.” 

“I consider you under his thumb.” Sherlock pressed. You just watched as the scene unfolded, waiting for Mycroft’s response. He was clearly unhappy with the situation. 

“You go against Magnusson then you will find yourself going against me.” Mycroft threatened.

“Okay I’ll let you know if I notice.” Sherlock walked to the door mumbling “Ohhhhh what was I gonna say.” Opening the door, he finished, “Oh yeah, bye-bye.” He pointed out the door advising Mycroft to take his leave. 

You were still standing in the hallway, in awe, as Mycroft approached you. He looked you in the eyes, towering over your figure as he spoke in a tone that could only be described as ice cold, “It would be wise to keep your mouth shut about this.” Before another word left his mouth Sherlock had him spun around and slammed into the door frame with a loud thud and shout of surprise or hurt, you couldn’t tell. 

Sherlock tightened his hold on Mycroft’s arm, “Brother mine, don’t appall me when I’m high.”

“Mycroft don’t say another word just go. He could snap you in two and right now, after you threatened {y/n}, I’m slightly worried that he might.” Sherlock released his arm and returned to his chair. Mycroft turns to you and can see the tears in your eyes. He was about to apologize, feeling horrible for making you cry, but John interrupted, “Don’t speak. Just leave.”

You noticed Mycroft’s umbrella had fallen to the floor during the dispute. You reached down, picking it up. You couldn’t even meet his gaze as you handed him the said umbrella. You turned and went back to your bedroom. You collapsed on your bed, exhausted and overwhelmed with everything happening around you. After hearing the front door lock, you came undone. You finally let yourself cry over the Iceman.


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft felt horrible after threatening you like that. These emotions were all new to him so he wasn’t sure how to deal with them. He went back to his home and sat by his fireplace, unable to sleep. His thoughts were beginning to consume him. ‘I really am the Iceman. How could I treat her like that? She has been nothing but kind to me.’ His thoughts went on like this throughout the night, fueled by numerous glasses of scotch. He had thought it best to hide his feelings for you but in the end he wasn’t so sure. The hurt in your eyes was more than his icy heart could handle. He was ashamed of himself. He would never be that cold to you again. He didn’t know what would become of these feelings he held but he was willing to give it a shot. You had already begun to warm his heart. Maybe he was capable of the silly thing they call ‘love’. His first step would be to apologize to you first thing in the morning. One step at a time. “Please forgive me.” He whispered into the slowly dying fire as he drifted into slumber.

You woke up the next morning, last night’s events still fresh in your mind. Mycroft had never spoken to you in such a cold manner. You began to think that maybe he just doesn’t like you. He probably never did. He just humored you because you were friends with Sherlock. But he was never particularly nice to John either and he is Sherlock’s best friend. ‘Oh well.’ You thought. You showered and ate breakfast before heading back to the police station. Lestrade probably had more paperwork for you to file. 

You stayed pretty busy throughout the morning. Not too much was going on so you paced yourself so you didn’t finish too long before the end of your shift. You were signing a document when you felt your phone buzz.

Mycroft: I need to speak with you. Meet me at the diner after your shift.

You just replied with a simple 'Okay’. You figured he just wanted to make it clear that you weren’t friends and to stay out of that Magnusson business. You sighed and finished signing the paperwork. You had a few calls for Lestrade but he just said it wasn’t our division. Once everything was signed and filed you clocked out. You took a taxi to the diner where you were to meet Mycroft. When you arrived, Mycroft was already standing outside smoking. You paid the taxi driver and approached Mycroft. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes.” He flinched at you calling him Mr. Holmes. You hadn’t called him that since the day you met. 

“Good afternoon {y/n}. Shall we get a table? I will be paying.” He spoke in his normal tone, much kinder than last night. You nodded and he held the door as you walked inside.

Once you were seated you just ordered a water, Mycroft frowned at that. Maybe he thought you were being rude not accepting his invitation to have whatever you want. “So Mr. Holmes, what did you need to speak to me about?” You questioned him while sipping your water.

“Oh yes. Well {y/n} I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was very rude and unbecoming of a gentleman in my position. I never should have spoken to you in that manner and I hope you will accept my sincerest apology.”

You stared at him for several moments. Watching him fidget. You could tell how nervous he was by his mannerism. He was trying to be calm and collected but he definitely wasn’t used to this. “Really? You…Mycroft Holmes…are apologizing?” you question skeptically but with a hint of humor.

“Yes my dear that is correct.” He says rubbing his temple, clearly uncomfortable, because a Holmes is never wrong therefore should never have to apologize but in this case, Mycroft Holmes, was in fact wrong.  
You smiled and said, “Okay. I forgive you Mycroft.”

Now it was his turn to look surprised, “Really?”

“Of course. Now shall we get something to eat. I’m starving. You can explain to me why you were acting so weird over a meal.”

“Very well.” He said. He had a small smirk on his face. ‘Thank goodness.’ He thought.

You both ordered and received your food and he explained how he was worried for your safety and that was the reason for the dispute last night and he said it would never happen again. You changed the subject and you spoke of other things that was of interest to you. You didn’t have very many hobbies in common but there was a comfort in the way you spoke to each other. You were content being there with him. Before you knew it a couple hours had passed.

“Oh my goodness. I’m sorry I kept you so long with my rambling, you must have work to do.” You said slightly embarrassed you kept Mycroft from his important job.

“Oh no my dear. I may have a minor position with the government but I do make my own hours.” He smiled.

“A small position? Sherlock said you ARE the British Government.” You said with a chuckle. 

“Sherlock may be correct.” He winked with a smirk. You blushed. “Well my dear, if you insist on leaving, would it be too much to ask that we do this again, maybe at a more appropriate venue?”

“You mean like a date?” You ask. You can feel your face heating up even more.

“If that’s what they are still calling it then yes. I would like to take you on a date.” Now he had a slight blush upon his own cheeks. He has never asked a woman out before but you were different and he couldn’t resist any longer. It was all new but he welcomed it because it was with you.

“Okay. I mean, yes I’d love to.” You were grinning like a fool. 

“Excellent.” He said paying for the food. You both exited the diner and two black cars were outside. “This one’s for you my dear. The driver will take you home.” He opened the door to the car taking your hand, assisting you into the car. Once you were seated, you went to gently pull your hand away so you could fasten your seatbelt, only he didn’t let go. He brought your hand up, his lips lightly caressing your knuckles. “I will be contacting you, my dear.” He closed the door and stepped back so the driver could return you to Baker Street. 

You touched your hand where Mycroft's lips had been just moments ago. “I am dating Mycroft Holmes.”


	4. Chapter 4

As Mycroft stood on the curb watching the car drive out of sight, he began thinking that this may have been a mistake. He was becoming far too close to you in such a short time. This was unnatural, especially for someone like him. He’d never been on a date before and he wasn’t going to start now. He would remain the Iceman. He couldn’t afford to change now. He thought, perhaps if he stays away from you for a while, these feelings will pass. He cared about you and that terrified him. He couldn’t let himself fall for you. You deserved someone who could love you properly. He would always be at work and not have time for you. Even if he did have time to spend with you, it would be awkward and uncomfortable. Anything other than dinner would be new to him. He always has to be in control and he doesn’t feel in control around you. So he has to put a stop to this nonsense before you both end up hurt. 

It had been almost 2 weeks since your meeting with Mycroft and you haven’t heard a thing. You didn’t think of him as the type to stand someone up but things weren’t looking too bright. Maybe he was busy or maybe he just wasn’t interested. You decided to just forget about it. Of course it upset you but you were very busy doing Lestrade’s mountains of paperwork. Sherlock was behind most of it but you weren’t complaining because you needed the extra money since Christmas was coming and you wanted to get everyone something nice for the Christmas Eve party Sherlock was having.   
Mycroft still hasn’t contacted you so you decided to go on with your life instead of waiting around. You received a Christmas bonus from work and with that you decided to go shopping at a local mall. You bought Sherlock a lovely purple scarf, Molly a gift package to a nail and spa salon, and everyone else gift cards to different stores. You were ready to leave when you passed a store that sold watches. You stepped inside, looking at the display cases. You spotted a beautiful, silver coated pocket watch that actually had an umbrella on it. You and Mycroft may not be anything, maybe not even friends now, but he was Sherlock’s brother so you had to get him something and this was perfect. You made the purchase and headed back to your flat.  
John and Sherlock had a client when you arrived so you stayed quiet. You took everything upstairs to your room. When you came down, the client was leaving and Mary was walking through the door.   
“Hello {y/n}. Are you coming to the Christmas Eve party?” Mary asked.  
“Definitely. I would never miss a chance to see Sherlock outside his comfort zone.” You both laughed at Sherlock’s expense. He just rolled his eyes and started playing his violin.  
John took a seat near Mary and asked, “Are you bringing a guest {y/n}?  
“Oh, I guess I never thought about it. I guess I could ask someone.” You started thinking of Mycroft. Maybe you could ask him to come to the party. At least if you talk to him you can ask why he hadn’t contacted you. You excused yourself and went upstairs to text Mycroft. You simply asked ‘Would you care to join me at Sherlock’s Christmas Eve party? We would all enjoy your company.’ You didn’t want to seem desperate so you added the last part. After a few moments your phone buzzed.  
Mycroft: No thank you. I dislike Christmas and really don’t wish to spend it with Sherlock or his ‘friends’.  
Your brows furrowed at his words. He didn’t have to be so rude about it. With a frown, you text back, ‘Okay. Sorry we goldfish aren’t worthy enough to spend Christmas Eve with. Have a nice evening Mr. Holmes.’ With that you tossed your phone on the bed and went back downstairs to visit more with Mary.

The next few days were a blur. Beings that it was Christmas week everyone was crazy. At the end of a long shift, you joined Lestrade in his office. He told you his wife, Leanne, wasn’t going to be able to make it to the Christmas Eve party so he was pretty bummed out about it. You grabbed him a cup of coffee and asked if he just wanted to tag along with you, just as friends of course. He said that was a great idea. You told him to give his wife your best and bid him farewell. You headed back home to get some much needed rest.   
When you arrived back at your flat, Sherlock was still awake. He was quietly playing his violin. You sat in John’s old chair and watched him play. You never really paid attention but Sherlock was a wonderful musician. This man was great at everything. You thought about asking him about his brother but you decided against it. Sherlock finished the song and placed the bow and violin on its stand. He took a seat in his chair and looked at you with furrowed brows.  
“What is it, Sherlock?” You asked concerned.  
“As you know, the Christmas Eve party is tomorrow, yes?” He asked.  
“Yeah.”   
“Well, on Christmas day, I am to go to my parents for Christmas dinner.” He said looking slightly irritated.  
“Okay?”   
“John and Mary will be there, as well as my ghastly brother, so I was wondering if you would want to join me so I don’t have to deal with my…family by myself?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. He obviously didn’t want to go but he couldn’t say no to ‘mummy’.  
“Fine.” You sighed. Two Christmas get-togethers in a row. Both involving Sherlock Holmes. This should be grand. 

\--Christmas Eve—  
You and Lestrade arrive together at the party, even though it’s your flat, you thought it appropriate that you arrive together. Leanne, his wife, sent her best. You two have been friends since you took the job so there was nothing to worry about. You placed the gifts under the small tree. You were excited to give everyone their gifts. You loved Christmas time. If only you could’ve spent the evening with Mycroft but he obviously lied and thought of you as a goldfish just like everyone else. You sighed and stood near Lestrade. Conversation flowed throughout the evening. Molly arrived looking beautiful as always. John and Mary announced that they were expecting a boy. You congratulated them. They were lovely together. They have been going through a tough time recently with the Magnusson business but John was coming around about the truth of Mary’s past and the fact that she was the one who shot Sherlock. You just know they will get through it. Everyone ate the wonderful ham dinner that Mrs. Hudson made that was absolutely delicious. Gifts were exchanged not long after. Molly was jumping for joy when she opened the gift from you. You caught a glimpse of a small smile when Sherlock opened the scarf. He kissed your cheek and thanked you. You carried on small talk with Lestrade and Molly as Sherlock stepped out of the room.  
Sherlock shut the door to his room and pulled out his phone, calling his brother. He could tell something was going on. You seemed upset a lot lately. He knew his brother cared for you and was obviously being a moron. Sherlock didn’t know about the feeling of love but he was sure Mycroft was going about it all wrong.  
“Oh dear Lord, we’re not gonna have Christmas phone calls now are we? Have they passed a new law?” Mycroft asked sarcastically.  
“Hello brother mine. {Y/n} has been acting strange these past few weeks and I deduce that you are behind it.”   
“And why would I be the reason behind {y/n}’s behavior as of late?”  
“Because she’s in love with you.” Sherlock was met with silence. Then he continued. “She is clearly heartbroken and trying to ignore it. I mean, she’s here with Grey for god’s sake.”  
“You mean Greg?”  
“Yeah whatever. I don’t know what you did after that night but you need to fix it. She is a good woman and I see the way you look at her, dear brother. I’m not stupid.”  
“Clearly you are mistaken Sherlock. I would never stoop so low as to harbor feelings for someone so…ordinary.” Mycroft was trying to convince himself but he was shocked by his own words. He didn’t mean one word and he regretted it once he said it. There was no way you were ordinary. You were everything he has ever wanted but he couldn’t show that weakness, not to Sherlock, not even to you.  
With shock clear on his face, Sherlock finally spoke. “Well brother mine. Hope you know what you’re giving up on. Merry Christmas.” Sherlock ended the call and hung his head. He was pretty confident Mycroft didn’t mean what he said. He was going to test the theory tomorrow at his parents’ house. After everyone said their goodbyes and left, Sherlock told you that he spoke with Mycroft and what he believes is going on, so you two devised a plan to make Mycroft Holmes jealous at Christmas Dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

It was Christmas morning and you were going to be leaving soon to go to Sherlock’s parents’ house for Christmas dinner. Sherlock had asked you to join him and you agreed and he also came up with the plan to make Mycroft jealous. He had mentioned the plan to his mother as well, so they weren’t confused with any flirting. Of course his mother was all for the plan. She said it was about time Mycroft found someone and she thought you sounded lovely. So now the game was on.   
You arrive at his parents’ at 1pm. As you pull into the driveway you spot Mycroft’s black car. You both exit the car and walk to the door. He takes your hand and knocks. His father answers the door.  
“Oh my, you must be {y/n}.” you nod. “Sherlock has told us so much about you.” Thankfully they are playing along. It seems to be working because Mycroft instantly looked up from his laptop, confused at his father’s words. “Come on in, you two, and make yourselves at home.” You both entered the home, still holding hands, which didn’t go unnoticed by Mycroft. Then their mother entered the room.  
“Oh my goodness, Sherlock, you never told us how beautiful she was. Hello dear, my name is Violet, but you may call me Mummy if you wish.” You smiled shyly as Sherlock spoke, “Yes well, as you can see, she’s stunning.” You blushed slightly as his kind words. You could see Mycroft was not pleased in the slightest. He was still wearing a frown. It was Mycroft’s turn to speak. “So, bother mine, when did this little ‘affair’ start?” He asked motioning to the both of you. “Well, blood, that doesn’t concern you.” Sherlock answered. You got up and asked Mrs. Holmes if you could help with anything. She assigned you to potato duty, so you started peeling away at the potatoes. John and Mary arrived a little later. They said their hellos and Mary took a seat in the living room, as she was pregnant and needed to rest. You continued to peel potatoes. You could see Sherlock and Mycroft glaring at each other, both of them glancing at you from time to time.   
Mycroft started rubbing his temple. “Oh dear god it’s only two o’clock. It’s been Christmas Day for at least a week now. How can it only be two o’clock? I am in agony.”  
Then you asked, “Mycroft, is this your laptop?”  
“Upon which depends the security of the free world, yes. And you’ve got potatoes on it.” He said with a small smirk. You didn’t know if it was irritation or not.  
“Well you shouldn’t leave it laying around.” His mother cut in. You smiled as did Sherlock. Sherlock stood and walked to your side, placing a hand on your hip. Mycroft glaring daggers at his brother’s hand, like if he stared hard enough it would fall off. “Darling, I’m going to step outside for a moment.” Sherlock spoke softly to where only you (and Mycroft) could hear. “Of course” You whispered, placing a small kiss on his cheek. Sherlock hummed and slid on his coat. The whole time, Mycroft was thinking what a fool he was. How could he let someone like you slip away? He had to figure out a way to win you back. He was done being cold, at least to you. You deserved to be loved and he would try his damnedest to make that happen. He had to make it happen. He stood and followed Sherlock outside. You took a deep breath and started to clean up your potato peeling mess when Mrs. Holmes walked back into the kitchen. “Where did my boys go?” She asked. “They stepped outside for a bit.” You said. “Oh good, now us girls can talk.” She took a seat next to you at the table. “I can see the way Mikey looks as you dear. He genuinely cares about you. He just doesn’t understand those kinds of feelings, sweetheart, so you need to help him understand. Be patient with my boy and he will come to you. I just know it.” She was smiling as you could feel the moisture in your eyes. “Mrs. Holmes, I think I love Mycroft.” You said with a shaky voice. “I know, dear.” She stood and took ahold of your face, gently wiping the tears away. “You will be good for my boy. You are the right woman for him. Just be patient and it will be.” She placed a kiss to your forehead and walked to the door opening it. “Are you two smoking?” You hear Mycroft deny it and Sherlock blame his brother. You chuckled and finished cleaning up the table.   
Outside Mycroft and Sherlock had been discussing you. Sherlock had insisted that he was indeed, interested in you and Mycroft had finally cracked and said he was as well. Sherlock smiled because he was right all along. “Why are you smiling?” Mycroft asked irritated. “Oh nothing.” “Tell me!” Mycroft asked again, clearly not putting up with Sherlock’s game any longer. “It was all an act. {Y/n} and I were never a couple. It was an act to make you jealous so you wouldn’t remain oblivious of the feelings you clearly possess for her and obviously it worked. Now you have to go in there and tell her how you…feel.” Sherlock replied, hesitant on the last part. Mycroft didn’t say anything to that but rather began telling Sherlock about a case.   
Back inside you sat at the table waiting for the boys to return inside. Mycroft returned inside first. He pulled up a chair near you and leaned in and whispered, “Sherlock told me everything.” You looked up at him with a furious blush spreading across your cheeks. He gently took your hand into his. “Darling, I know I’ve treated you horridly the past month or so, which I deeply regret and I apologize. I will never treat you in such a manor again. I’ve never done anything like this before, but if you’ll have me, I would love to take you out to dinner, for real this time. Maybe next Sunday evening.” His hands were shaking in yours. You could tell he was being completely honest with you. He just spilled his heart to you. Again your eyes were filled with tears of excitement. “Of course Mycroft. I would love to go to dinner with you. And yes I forgive you.” He smiles and pulls you into a hug. “Thank you so much, my dear.” “Does this mean we are official?” You ask looking at him expectantly. “Yes, darling, it does.” You squeal and kiss him on the lips. His mother walks into the room, “Finally” She says with a grin. Then Mycroft leans into you as if he was falling asleep. He laid his head on his laptop. “Mycroft! Are you alright?” You ask shaking his shoulder. You look over and his mother is asleep in the chair. Just then Sherlock walks in. “Why aren’t you passed out?” He asked confused. “You drugged your own family?” You asked him, shocked. He peaked around the corner and told John “Don’t drink Mary’s tea.” “Sherlock what the Hell have you done?” You asked, demanding an answer. “A deal with the devil.” He says as he picks up Mycroft’s laptop. He starts to walk out the door and you grab his arm, “I’m going with you!” “No! Mycroft will never forgive me if something happens to you.” “You don’t understand, Sherlock, Magnusson has things on me that Mycroft can never know about. I want these files just as much as you two. I’m going and you can’t stop me.” “Alright. The game is on.”


	6. Chapter 6

You explained everything to Sherlock and John on the way to Magnussen’s estate. You had worked with Mary in the past. You and Mary had a silent agreement that no one could know about your past. Sherlock figured Mary out but she never said a word about you. Not even the British government knew about you. Every record with your name on it had long since been destroyed. Sherlock wasn’t surprised. He said he knew there was something interesting about you. John on the other hand was shocked but he and Sherlock swore to never say a word to Mycroft until you were ready.   
The three of you arrive minutes later. Sherlock held Mycroft’s laptop firmly. You were showed into the living room where Magnussen sat. Sherlock rescuing John from the fire playing on his large screen television. He admitted to being the one behind the fire and how it exposed his pressure point.   
“I’m not a murder, like your wife.” He said to John. “And {y/n}.” He turned towards you. “What would Mycroft think if he were to find out about you and Mary’s little…adventures?” You stared at him with fear in your eyes. Mycroft was the only man you have let in. You couldn’t lose him now. Not after he finally confessed to you. “Let me explain how leverage works. For those who understand these things, Mycroft Holmes is the most powerful man in the country,” He looks at you again. “Well, apart from me. Mycroft’s pressure point is his junky, detective, brother Sherlock, and recently he acquired another.” He said smirking. “And Sherlock’s pressure point is his best friend, John Watson. John Watson’s pressure point is his wife. I own John Watson’s wife, I own {y/n}, I own Mycroft. He’s what I’m getting for Christmas.”  
“It’s an exchange,” Sherlock says, “not a gift.” He handed Magnussen the laptop which was password protected. Sherlock went on to say he would give him the password as long as he gave up any information he had on you and Mary Watson. Magnusson started taunting John about how you and Mary were killers and there were so many people dead at your hands.   
“I want everything you’ve got on Mary and {y/n}.” Sherlock stated firmly. Magnussen started laughing, knowing full well that a GPS locator is planted in Mycroft’s laptop and he, along with security services, would be arriving shortly.   
“Mycroft has been looking for this opportunity for a long time. He would be a very proud big brother.” Magnussen says, drinking the last of the whiskey. “Let me show you the Appledoor Vaults.” He stands and walks to a set of double doors revealing the vaults as nothing more than an empty room. He takes a seat and escapes to his Mind Palace where he keeps the vaults. He goes to the files on you and Mary speaking of your jobs with the CIA and the people you killed. He laughed and called you both wicked and didn’t doubt why John and Mycroft liked the both of you. “Knowing is owning.” He stood up, “Let’s go outside. They’ll be here shortly. Can’t wait to see you arrested.”  
You all walked outside. John said he didn’t understand. How could he just memorize everything? Magnussen said he wanted to punch John’s face and to bring his soldier face over to him. John approached him with caution. “Lean forward a bit and stick your face out. Please.” John did as he was told. “Now can I flick it? Can I flick your face?” He proceeded flicking John in the face and chuckling as he did so. He is clearly enjoying this. “I just love doing this. I could do it all day.” He threated John by saying he knows people who hate Mary and could tear his life apart unless he can flick his face. Then he turned to you. “This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries. Just because I know. Can I do your eye?” He asked you. “See if you can keep it open.” He flicks you in the eye and laugh. “Come on, for Mycroft. Keep it open.” He says as he continues to hit your eye. “Sherlock,” you plead. “Let him, I’m sorry, just let him.” Sherlock says apologetically. “Come on, eye open.” He flicks you again and again. Your eyes begin to water. “It’s difficult isn’t it? I bet you can make the funniest noises.” Then you could hear a helicopter approaching. Ground soldiers approached the house. Then you heard. “Sherlock Holmes, {Y,N}, and John Watson, stand away from that man.” It was Mycroft.   
“Here we go Mr. Holmes”  
“To clarify, Appledoor Vaults only exist in your mind. Nowhere else, just there.”  
“They’re not real. They never have been.” He confirms. Sherlock nods.   
“Sherlock Holmes, {Y,N}, and John Watson, step away!” Mycroft demands again.   
“It’s fine. They’re harmless.” Magnussen shouts.   
“Sherlock what do we do?” You ask.  
“Nothing. There’s nothing to be done. Oh I’m not a villain. I have no evil plan. I’m a businessman. Acquiring assets, you happen to be one of them. Sorry. No chance for you to be a hero this time Mr. Holmes.”  
“Sherlock Holmes, {Y,N}, and John Watson, stand away from that man. Do it now.” Mycroft states again.  
“Oh do your research,” Sherlock starts, pulling a gun out of Johns coat pocket. “I’m not a hero. I’m a high-functioning sociopath. Merry Christmas!” Sherlock points the gun to Magnussen’s head and pulls the trigger, immediately dropping the weapon and raising his hands. “Get away from me you two, stay well back!”   
“CHRIST SHERLOCK!” John shouts. You both raise your hands above your head.  
“Stand Fire!” Mycroft shouts. “Do not fire on Sherlock Holmes! Do not fire!” He demands.  
“Oh Christ Sherlock.” You say. Unbelieving of what just happened. You wanted the man dead but you never thought Sherlock would be the one to do it.   
“You have my love” He says then turns to John “and give my love to Mary. Tell her she’s safe now.” He turns back to you. “You both are.” A tear runs down your face. Sherlock has just saved you from a lifetime of fear but at what cost. Sherlock goes upon his knees, accepting his fate. You were all placed in handcuffs and taken to Scotland Yard. You sat in a jail cell until Mycroft arrive. He approached the cell. He looked at you with disappointment written all over his face. He told John he could go. Sherlock was the only one to be charged. “You come with me.” He stated firmly. There was no patience in his tone. You followed him down the halls until you came to your office. You stepped inside and it was empty. All of your belongings were gone. You were clearly fired. Sadness was clear in your eyes as you looked to Mycroft. “I’m not angry {y/n}, I am however…disappointed that you didn’t confide in me like you have with Sherlock. I am your boyfriend now, am I not?” “Yes of course you are but,” He interrupts, “Still you decide to go to my brother with issues of which I am completely left in the dark. Why is that {y/n}?” “I’m sorry.” You say as your eyes fill with tears. This man made you weak. You were ashamed of your past and you didn’t want to disappoint the only man you have let yourself come to care about deeply. You hung your head. You couldn’t sink any lower. Then you felt a hand, Mycroft’s hand, brush against your chin raising your head. He wiped away your tears. “My dear, I don’t know what I would have done if something were to have happened to you tonight. I care about you too much and it would have killed me. Your loss would break my heart.” He said with tears showing in his eyes, voice strained. You wrap your arms around his neck and slam your lips to his. He gladly responds deepening the kiss, one hand on you hip, the other on your cheek. When you finally break apart, you look around the room.   
“So I guess Lestrade is firing me” You chuckle sadly.  
“On the contrary, my dear, you are being promoted. You will be working with me from now on.” You leap into his arms laughing. You have never been so happy. “Darling, about your past, with Magnussen, the problems of your past are your business. The problems of your future are my privilege.” You bust out laughing. “Oh Lord, Mycroft, that was horrible.” “Did you like that? I stole it from John.” He smiled into the curve of your neck. “Clearly.” You laughed. You stayed at Mycroft’s that night. You both slept curled into each other’s arms. The next morning you and Mycroft had a bunch of work to do. You had to figure out what was to be done with Sherlock. You got all the paperwork squared away after they made the decision to exile him. He was to be sent away on a case that Mycroft was sure would end within 6 months. It saddened him to do it but Mycroft had no other choice.  
You all arrived at an airport strip together where you all said your goodbyes to Sherlock. John and Sherlock took a moment to themselves. You could swear if John wasn’t married that they would totally be a thing. You laughed quietly to yourself. Mycroft looked at you curiously. You just shook your head and smiled. You watched Sherlock board the plane and waved as the plane took off. You stepped back into the car when Mycroft’s phone rang. “But that’s not possible.” Mycroft says after a moment, eyebrows creased in confusion. “That is simply not possible.” He turns on the screen in the car revealing Moriarty saying ‘Did you miss me?’ and the words playing at the side of the screen. He calls Sherlock. “Hello little brother, how is the exile going?” He asks. “Well I certainly hope you’ve learnt your lesson. As it turns out, you’re needed.” There is another short pause. “England.” He hangs up. You both step out of the car as the plane is landing and you hear John say, “There’s an east wind coming.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some spoilers to the Abominable Bride. Smut in this chapter.

“Well, a somewhat shorter exile than we’d imagined, brother mine. Hardly adequate, given your levels of OCD.” Mycroft said as you and him boarded the plane to meet Sherlock. Sherlock appeared to just be waking up, though it had only been a few minutes since Mycroft spoke to him. Sherlock started going on about some man and his abominable wife.  
“It was a case, a famous one, from 100 years ago. Lodged into my hard drive. She seemed to be dead, but then she came back.” Sherlock explained.  
“What like Moriarty?” John asked.  
“Shot herself in the head…Exactly like Moriarty.” Sherlock answered.  
“But you’ve only just been told, we’ve only just found out. He’s on every TV screen in the country.” You explain to Sherlock. You look at Mycroft and he doesn’t look happy with Sherlock. You look at him confusedly.  
“Yes, so? It’s been five minutes since Mycroft called. What progress have you made? What have you been doing?” Sherlock asks impatiently.  
John chuckles, “More to the point, what have you been doing?”  
“I’ve been in my mind palace, of course. Running an experiment. How would I have solved the crime, if I’d been there in 1895?” Sherlock said. Mycroft shakes his head.  
“Oh Sherlock.” Mycroft says, turning around to sit next to you, disappointment written all over his face. Sherlock does seem really out of it. Like he’s hyped up on something and very anxious.  
“I had all the details perfect.” Sherlock sound desperate. “I was there, all of it, everything. I was immersed.”  
“Of course, you were.” Mycroft says staring at the floor. You place your hand on his knee to calm him. He takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.  
“You’ve been reading John’s blog? The story of how you met.” Mary asks.  
“Helps me if I see myself through his eyes sometimes. I’m so much more cleverer.” Sherlock answered.  
Mycroft releases your hand and turns to Sherlock, “You really think anyone’s believing you?”  
“No, he can do this, I’ve seen it. The mind palace is like a whole world in his head.” John defends his best friend.  
“Yes and I need to get back there.” Sherlock says, sounding even more desperate than before.  
“The mind palace is a memory technique. I know what it can do. And I know what it most certainly cannot.” Mycroft says looking at John.  
“Maybe there are one or two things that I know that you don’t.” Sherlock says in a snarky tone.  
“Oh, there are” Mycroft says. “Did you make a list?” You look at them confused at Mycroft’s question.  
Sherlock turns to him, “You put on weight. That waistcoat’s clearly newer than the jacket…”  
“Stop this, just stop it!” Mycroft shouts, “Did you make a list?”  
“Of what?” Sherlock asks.  
“Everything, Sherlock. Everything you’ve taken.” Mycroft is clearly upset now. You don’t know what to say so you continue to listen.  
“No, it’s not that, he goes into a sort of trance. I’ve seen him do it.” John defends Sherlock once again. Sherlock takes out a piece of crumbled paper and tosses it to the floor for Mycroft. John picks it up looking at the list of narcotics Sherlock had taken in just a matter of minutes. John looks shocked.  
“We have an agreement, my brother and I, ever since that day.” Mycroft says sadly. He takes your hand in his once again and continues, “Wherever I find him, whatever back alley or doss house, there will always be a list.”  
“He couldn’t have taken all that in the last five minutes.” John states firmly.  
“He was high before he got on the plane.” Mycroft says with a disgusted look.  
“He didn’t seem high” You said.  
“Nobody deceives like an addict.” Mycroft says glaring at Sherlock.  
“I’m not an addict, I’m a user.” Sherlock corrects. “I alleviate boredom and occasionally heighten my thought process.”  
“For God’s sake, this could kill you. You could die.” John shouts, disappointed in Sherlock as well.  
“Controlled usage is not usually fatal, and abstinence is not immortality.” Sherlock says looking at Mycroft, but he is looking at you as you tapped away on your phone.  
“What are you doing.” Mycroft asked.  
“Emelia Ricoletti, I’m looking her up.” You answer.  
“Yeah, I suppose we should. I have access to the top level of the MI5 archives.” Mycroft says, hoping to impress.  
“Yep, that’s where I’m looking.” You say with a smile.  
Mycroft sighs, “What do you think of MI5’s security?” He asks.  
“I think it would be a good idea.” You say with a smirk. He just looks at you irked but you smile. “Emelia Ricoletti, unsolved. Like he says.” You say looking at Mycroft.  
“Can you all just shut up for five minutes? I have to go back. I was nearly there before you stepped on and started yapping away.” Sherlock complains  
“Yapping? Sorry, did we interrupt your session?” John asks sarcastically.  
Mycroft clears his throat. “Sherlock, listen to me.”  
“No, it only encourages you.”  
Mycroft continues, “I’m not angry with you.”  
“Sherlock scoffs, “Oh, that’s a relief. I was really worried. No, hold on. I really wasn’t.” Sherlock said rudely.  
“I was there for you before. I’ll be there for you again. I’ll always be there for you. This was my fault.” You would swear Mycroft had tears in his eyes and his voice faltered a bit.  
“It was nothing to do with you.” Sherlock retorted.  
“A week in a prison cell, I should have realized.”  
“Realized what?”  
“That in your case, solitary confinement is locking you up with your worst enemy.”  
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Sherlock scoffs again. Then he turns to John confused. “What did you say?”  
“I didn’t say anything.” John says.  
“No, you did, you said, ‘Which is it today? Morphine or cocaine?’” You all look at him in confusion. What was he talking about? “Holmes?” He then passes out, slipping back into his mind palace high.  
Mary monitors Sherlock as he goes through his high. You turn to Mycroft and pull him into a tight hug. He returns it, wrapping his arms around you. He clearly needs to be held after all that with his brother. How can one man shoulder so much? You whisper sweet nothings in his ear to help relax his nerves. Sherlock wouldn’t be out for too long. He released you, looking at his brother, getting lost in his own thoughts.  
Sherlock wakes with a start. “Miss me?”  
“Sherlock, you all right?” John asks, concerned.  
“Yes, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“Cause you probably just OD’d. You should be in hospital.” Mary says.  
“No time. I have to go to Baker Street now. Moriarty is back.” Sherlock says standing up, but staggering a bit.  
“I almost hope he is.” Mycroft says, standing next to you. “If it’ll save you from this.” He holds up the list. Sherlock takes it and rips it up dropping it to the floor.  
“No need for that now. I’ve got the real thing. I have work to do.” Sherlock says trying to pass Mycroft.  
“Sherlock,” He looks at Sherlock with misty eyes. “promise me?”  
“What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be off getting me a pardon or something? Like a proper big brother.” You frown at Sherlock’s harsh words as he pushes Mycroft aside to leave the plane. The others pass by as well.  
“Dr. Watson,” Mycroft says turning to face John. “Look after him. Please.” Mycroft croaks out. John nods and exits the plane to join Sherlock outside. You look at Mycroft, your heart breaking at how fragile he looks. He kneels down to pick up the torn list. He places it in his little book that he keeps on Sherlock. He stands up and you notice a small tear escapes his eyes. You rush to him wrapping your arms around him. He squeezes back letting out a heavy sigh. You tell him it’s okay to cry and that you will always be there for him. He nods. He straightens himself up, fixing his suit. You both exit the plane and get into his car to head back to his home.  
When you arrive at the house, you start the shower for him. Hearing the shower, he makes his way to the bathroom. He disrobes and steps in. The shower is hot but it is just what he needs to unwind. He starts thinking about Sherlock and all the close calls he has had with his drug habit. Then he starts thinking of you, and how lost he was until he found you. You kept him from falling apart. He is rinsing his hair when the shower door opens and you step in behind him. You rest your hands on his back, moving along the knotted muscles that define him. He lets out a hearty sigh and turns to face you. He has not seen you like this so he stares a moment to take in your beautiful form. You may not have a perfect body but you were perfect to him. You were everything he could ever hope for. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. Your bodies come together. His fingers run through your hair and he clasps the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He needs this. He needs you. It has to be you. Neither of you have shared your bed with anyone before, but you knew this was real. You had to have each other. He breaks the kiss, looking down at your shaking form. “I love you.” He says. You look up at him and he is shaking as well. This is what you both want, so you put your arms around his neck and say, “Make love to me, please.” That’s all it takes for him to slam his lips against yours once again. His fingers are all over your wet skin, making you arch your body into his. You grind your hips against his making him groan. He pressed his growing erection between your damp legs trying to create some friction. You moan into his mouth at the sensation. He reaches down between your legs, his fingers gently caressing your womanhood. He looks at you for confirmation and you nod. He presses his fingers inside you and uses his thumb to rub your clit. Before long you were moaning loudly and rocking your hips against his fingers, losing yourself in the sensation. Heat pooled in your stomach as he picked up the pace, fucking you harder with his fingers and you came with a loud moan. He kissed you hard and pulled his fingers out rinsing them in the water. Once you caught your breath, he asked if you were ready. You said yes so he wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around him as he holds you up against the shower wall. He lifts you up a bit more and starts pushing his now hard member inside you. You close your eyes tightly. He prepared you well with his fingers but it still hurt slightly. Once he was all the way inside you, he kissed you, “Are you ready, my love?” He asked. You nod. He pulls out all but the head and slams back inside you. You shout out in pleasure. For a virgin, he was rough, and you were enjoying it. He slammed up into you fast and hard. He lasted longer than he thought he would but he was always good at holding his composure. His thrusts became sloppy and he knew he was going to cum soon. A wonderful heating sensation built up in the both of you. You were both moaning but it came to an end with a low grunt from Mycroft and you calling out his name as he spilt his seed inside you. You were both a panting mess. He pulled out, completely spent. You felt this cum dripping down your leg. You shared lazy kisses as you finished your shower. You met him downstairs after you got dressed in your evening clothes. He was sitting near the fireplace. You made a pot of tea to share, sitting it between you both. He was staring into the flames, eyebrows knitted together. You handed him his cup. “Are you regretting what we did?” You ask concerned. He looks at you shocked, “Oh goodness no, my daring. Of course not. I’m so happy it happened.” You sighed in relief. Then he continued, “I’m just thinking of Sherlock, my dear. He was in a bad way today. I just don’t know what to do with him anymore.” He puts his head into his hands and hunches over, looking defeated. You stand and make your way to his side and kneel before him taking his hands and sitting them back in his lap and taking his face into your hands. “Do you remember what you said to Sherlock? That you will always be there for him?” You ask. “Yes, of course I do.” He answers. “Well, my love, I will always be there for you. We will deal with Sherlock together. No matter what happens, I will always be by your side to support you in whatever comes our way.” He looks at you in amazement. With tears in his eyes, he takes your face in his hands and presses his lips to yours, giving you the most tender and loving kiss. He finally found someone that could truly love him and that he could love in return. You had finally melted the Iceman’s heart.  
In the years to come, Mycroft Holmes opened up another side to himself that he never knew existed, but that was only for you to see. On the outside he was the same Iceman everyone knew and feared, but once he came home to you, he was just your husband.


End file.
